Grand Larsony
by ZigzagsGolden
Summary: Brie Larson and Gal Gadot are offered a chance to make a Marvel and DC crossover film. The cost? A sultry evening with a film executive.
1. Prologue

"So, what we are pitching here, Mr. Stevens, is the next era in superhero films."

Brie spoke assertively to the Hollywood executive, finishing her pitch with the confidence he would be impressed. She looked over to Gal sitting in the chair to her right, and they exchanged a smile.

The penthouse suite, adorned to spare no expense, only contained the three of them. Both her and Mrs. Gadot's agents assured them the meeting wouldn't require their presence. Odd, and a bit unsettling, Brie mused. I hope he's not bent on gutting our salaries. Or worse: laughing in our faces and shooting down the movie.

Early summer was coming on in Los Angeles, and the heat waves shimmered off the neighboring highrises. The air choked with stifling humidity, and Brie had become damp with sweat just from walking into the building lobby.

Mr. Stevens drummed his fingers on his office chair armrest. He looked at the floor for a brief moment. "I'm glad you two ladies came today. My schedule was booked and my Annie barely found time to fit you all in." Annie was his secretary, a fresh undergrad from Berkeley. When Brie had arrived, she could almost instantly tell that the young girl was not part of this world, the world of actors, crewmen, and executives. Those who tiptoed a delicate dance around money, social politics, and sexual tension.

It was obvious of Annie's unwavering submission to Mr. Stevens. He's abusing his wealth and power with her. Picking up on the implications, Brie believed she could subtly wager a phone call to her parents, or even the evening news, in her leverage for her pitch.

Brie did not like Mr. Daniel Stevens. He embodied everything she had spoken out against these last few years. He was the final level, the last challenge to film industry inclusion, with all the qualifiers: rich, white, male, soaked in family pedigree and only recently appointed to a position Brie believed belonged to at least a man of color. The fact that it was the current year and she and Gal had to suck up to this pillar of privilege made her stomach turn a bit. But she felt she had to do what was necessary to open this door.

"Listen, I'm going to be honest with you." Mr. Stevens exchanged a look from one actress to the other. "I get where you are coming from."

Brie became solid and sobered in her gait. I'll hear it, but I'll have plenty to retort with.

The executive continued: "Representation in movies these days, especially for women in action roles, is a trend. A profitable one, thanks in no small part to the Academy and activists like you, Ms. Larson. A lot of people want it and tickets will sell." He paused. "And I know I'm in a unique position."

With a smirk, Brie cut in: "That's why we're here."

Daniel seemed a bit annoyed, but went on: "Having large shares in Legendary Pictures as well as being recently appointed to head Marvel cinematography does offer interesting prospects. Imagine the potential." He smiled something attempting courtesy. "I get it, you want Wonder Woman and you want Captain Marvel. In a movie together. The first ever Marvel and DC crossover in entertainment history, well licensed at least. And I suppose you'd want someone like Paul Fieg directing it. So you can one-up or kick all the men's asses. You want us to demonstrate on-screen, through popular cinema, female empowerment. You want to inspire girls to grow up knowing they can be heroes as well."

Gal finally spoke up, "Yes exactly. That's what we want to do. And you, sir," Brie noticed a slight smirk on the man's face before her friend continued, "Are the only one who can give them that. We are A-list stars now, Brie and I. We can push this movie with your sign off."

Then came a scoff from Mr. Stevens. "Woke. Isn't that what the young people are calling it? I may be only half a decade from fifty, but it's important to be deeply in touch and informed with everything going on in our culture with this job. And that's what you are trying to be. Woke. Pandering."

Brie opened her mouth to speak, angry, but the executive cut her off. "Yea, I'm in a unique position, but I'm also one of the last movie bosses in this cesspit of a town that isn't some lefty nut. What you are asking me is likely a minimum 350 million budget film, plus licensing fees and contracts. Corporate deals that could have monetary fallout for years, decades even."

Gal was sincere and tried to ease Mr. Stevens mind. "Yea, me and my agent, Yosra, did some figuring. Looked at the historical deals between studio mergers, events like Disney acquiring Marvel. It will push a large part of this town's creative market in a new direction. It's a big risk for sure, Dan."

Dan, or Mr. Stevens as he preferred to be called, was without scruples in what little reputation he had. The man had kept a low profile, despite his large financial power, and preferred to be simply associated with his image of a stern, shapely film mogul who always wore sharp suits and a well groomed head of salt and pepper hair. He also kept a short and neatly trimmed beard. Now, grabbing a decanter off his desk corner, he half filled a glass of ice with whiskey. "How in the world do you expect me to sign that much of my wealth over to something because you just had some toothless hunch about how it would better the world." He reached over to his drink and took a swig. "I've been in this business for over twenty years, and head of my family fortune for eight. Don't think I can be swayed to spend money with some progressive bullshit."

Brie rose from her chair, "Yea, great for you, Mr. white man with billions. It must be so difficult. You should really fucking watch what you say here today. If you know culture like you say, you'd know that words carry a lot of weight in today's America."

The man gave a smirk. Brie saw there was callous and arrogance in it. "Ladies, I don't believe you understand how things work. Not fully anyway." He rose from his chair and with no shred of humility in his posture he approached the window. He motioned out to the Los Angeles skyline. "You see this city, this great metropolis? You know what built it?"

The ladies looked incredulous. He continued, "Balls. Testes. Nuts. A pair. Not steel and sweat. Pure unadulterated testosterone." He then turned to them. "This city existed long before pandering millionaires and their hordes of internet supplicants. It has existed long before marches and honorary morality camps. It was built by men like me, and two upstart, feckless actresses are but blemishes on its proverbial scrotum."

"Listen you fucking miso-" Brie gasped but was cut off again.

"Why do you think your agents didn't come? Why do you think they've been dodging your messages the last few days? They may attend to you but at their base level, they understand what's going on here. They know who the players are in this little burg. They know if they cautioned you against invoking my patronage, they would no longer work in this town."

"But why," Gal spoke up, in her sanguine Israeli accent. "Why bring us here just to angrily deny us? If you already knew you were going to say no?"

"Equal exchange." He said. Those two words left a pause in the room. A gap that left only fluttering in the abdomen of the two actresses.

"Excuse me?" Brie was on her last strand of patience. For some reason, I'm liking this guy even less now.

Mr. Stevens casually made his way over from the window to the front of his desk. He leaned back against the edge and looked from Brie, then to Gal, then back to Brie again. He cleared his throat. "Are you fans of Katherine Hepburn?"

"What?" Brie blurted.

"You know the early actress in this industry? Charming but outspoken, graceful yet fiery? Seen as an early pioneer for women here in town."

"Yes but..." Gal began, then trailed off.

He smiled a smart smile at her. "That man in that picture back toward the corner there," he pointed. "That's my great uncle, Don. He was never in charge of the Stevens' estate. My grandfather saw to that. Too complacent and not ruthless enough." He looked down then back at the women. "He had a penchant for spending money though. He bought lots of nice things. Cars, houseboats, trips to Fiji. Furniture. Hell, that sofa back there used to sit in his study near Long Beach. Only I saved it from being thrown out when his will was read."

Brie had seen the luxury antique, barely visible through the open door to Stevens' living area. Where is this going? She wondered.

"Despite not being the king of the Stevens' castle, Ms. Hepburn sucked Uncle Don's balls dry for years." The executive smiled, clearly anticipating a reaction.

He got one as Brie looked away in disgust, "Oh bullshit! You are such a fucking creep. I'm about to walk out of here." And let Twitter know about this guy.

"No, you aren't. Because I know you want me to finish." He winked at her. She shifted awkwardly but kept eye contact. "Let's not mince words. According to Forbes last year my networth is somewhere around 5 billion dollars. That's more than you will ever make in a fifty superhero movies."

"You're stinking rich in Hollywood, great..." Brie thought this laughable. This whole thing would be a scandal for the ages. Forget Weinstein, this guy is about to be on a crucifix.

"I thought you should know," Dan said, "This idea has been floated around by the bigwigs for a while. At least a couple years. It's barely a drafted script, but it's filed somewhere in the annals of this empire. As you ladies both said, I am in a unique position in that I have large amounts of influence in both franchises. More than anyone in entertainment. I am..." He paused to swallow. "I am prepared to invest 500 million in this venture. And that's not just for production costs. That's a guarantee for you two."

Gal spoke before Brie could say something smart. "Guarantee? What the fuck does that even mean?" It was clear that though she wasn't as vocal, she was just as irritated.

"That you two make as much with your roles as Downey Jr. did with Endgame. Each." They had nothing to say to that so he went on, "As well as the fact you two will have significant sway in writing the full screenplay. Down to the scene."

Wow, that's..generous. Brie was so taken aback she forgot her anger for a brief moment. Still, she managed: "I don't believe that. Especially not from you."

"Well you better start." Dan replied, taking another sip of whiskey. "Any director I put on it, even a male with years in filmmaking, I can make him see to your wishes in this project. I can guarantee that with every ounce of honesty and experience I have. The world's been waiting for this movie. You two will be the toast of Beverly Hills for the next five or six years, unless you fuck up something yourself, which is not on me. What is on me is that I'm the one man to light the match."

There was silence in the penthouse for what seemed like eons. Brie had to stew on the offer. Well, what's he want in return? The silence eventually became so sweltering that she had to say something out loud: "And the catch?"

He finally came forward to them, knelt down between their chairs, and put a hand on each of their bare, silky shoulders. His hand was cold on Brie's skin. "Three days. Two out in town. On the third you will be here in the evening, and stay until dawn breaks on Friday. Just you two and me."

Brie, aghast, reached up and slapped him very loudly. "You fucking piece of shit. I knew where you were leading. We aren't gonna sleep with you for a fucking role."

"You're not just going to sleep with me. You aren't just going to comfort me or pleasure me or whatever. You are going to be my personal property for three days. And you are going to do it for an eighty-million dollar payout."

Brie scoffed and looked hotly at Gal. But the dark haired woman was not looking at her, nor was she looking at the executive either. Merely the floor, the patterned carpet. Her checks were brightly flushed.

"Don't start that bullshit, Brie." Dan said cynically. "I could go out and spend ten grand on an escort with much more experience and willingness, and much less sass and disrespect for men. I would earn more money in two hours of fucking her than she cost. I'm willing to pay you more for one film than most A-list actors make in ten. One film. For three days."

Now Brie was the one swallowing. "If you think I would sell my integrity for money, you have no idea who I actually am. I am not your plaything, your whore, I am a person. I am a woman who will not stay silent and do as she's told. You are the worst man I've ever met. Fucking shame on you. You make my skin crawl."

He chuckled, "And you're making my dick hard. Oh don't give me that fucking look. You are just naive. All that propaganda swallowed and regurgitated. It's made you forget. We can pass laws. The government can give you money. You can not shave your legs," he chuckled again at that. "But you need to remember you place. Your place in the bedroom. The use of your body. Your mouth. Your hands. Your feet. Your cunt." He paused again, and his eyes darted to her crossed legs. "Your anus."

The anger was swelling to a tempest in her brain. Her face was crimson. "Fuck. You."

"I can swear this to you, Ms. Larson. By my wealth. My life. My two year old son." He leaned in very close to her. "Three nights from now, you won't be swallowing propaganda. Your soft mouth will have the hot nectar of my sperm in it, and you will feel it inside you."

Two seconds from the eruption, the scream, the second slap, there was a soft voice. "I'll do it."

As if not giving the slightest regard for her temperament, Mr. Stevens looked away from Brie and over to Gal, who had spoken. He squeezed her shoulder. "Thank you, sweetheart. I was beginning to think we might be at an impasse. I'm glad you both agree."

"I don't agree to shit!" Brie flew up from her chair. "What the fuck is wrong with you Gal? You're gonna be some toy for this pig for money? I am never going to speak to you again."

"Oh you'll speak to her. Pretty soon you'll be swapping spit and skin cells. With me too, of course."

Brie stood there. She wanted to leave but Gal's betrayal was too much. Her heart ached so fiercely. This meeting has hit the fan.

Finally Gal spoke up again, "Not for the money, for them. Us. Every female that movies touch. This will be groundbreaking, revolutionary. We can change cinema forever. The first crossover event being female led? We have to do this. To make everything we've done before count."

Tears. There were tears running down Brie's cheeks. She wasn't bawling yet, but her eyes were salty and blurry.

The executive spoke up. "If not for the money, do it for your lofty aspirations. I don't give a shit. But right here right now, I need to know Ms. Brie Larson. Are you in agreement?"

Brie let out a long quivering sigh. "I have a boyfriend. Gals married and has children. I don't want to sleep with you."

"You will want too, I guarantee it. Things are just startling right now." He said it with absolute certainty and as cold as the ice cubes in his whiskey glass. "In my forty-five years I have never done anything unwanted to a woman and don't intend to start now. You two, collect your heads, head out to the waiting room and speak with Annie before you go. She will know what's going on and give you some material. Get some sleep tonight. I will not see you for three days. You will have plenty to do before then."

They were both turning to leave and he put an arm around each of them, the one on Gal near her shoulder blades, the one on Brie atop her shoulders. "This will be over by the start of next week and you'll be on to stardom, wealth and influence. Goodbye ladies. Don't forget Annie." Gal shrugged him off and headed for the door.

Brie stalled for a second, still dumbstruck. This isn't happening, no, it's not. I just need to get out of here.

She started to move but only got half a pace before he spoke one last time. "And Brie?"

"What?!" She said spitefully. Then suddenly, she felt his hand smack her firm ass which sent a shockwave up her back. The sudden alertness shooting through her brain was intense, but despite all the gall and gumption of the last thirty minutes, she could not ignore something else. Another sensation. Between her legs, her labia every so slightly throbbed, and she swore it didn't happen, but a small spot of wetness dampened her panties. She couldn't take anything beyond that, and was out of the room quickly.

In the waiting room, Gal and Annie were there talking. An older woman, who Annie had called Marissa, was dusting a picture on the wall near a side door. The secretary was handing Gal a large yellow envelope, and one sat on the desk which Brie assumed belong to her. She stepped forward and grabbed it. It was thick with papers, she could tell.

Annie was instructing them: "You girls, the itinerary is in there. Stick to it strictly. I need to tell you that for the rest of today and all of tomorrow you all may not have any contact with one another. Gal, he's made some nice reservations for you to dine and sleep tonight. Brie, since your significant other is not there, you will be returning home." She paused and caught her breath. "You all are going to be great in this movie."

"Thanks," both women said dimly in unison, before exchanging a look.

Dan's assistant drummed her long nails on the desktop. "Be up early tomorrow. Do you know where Van Nuys is?"

It took a moment with all the brain fog but Brie suddenly remembered the name, "The porn suburb? If he wants us to come here for...him...why go all the way out there?"

Annie blinked and smiled. "You're intelligent, charismatic, cultured ladies with a certain way of seeing the world." She stopped for only a moment to lessen her smile. "You'll need an attitude change, as well as some instruction on what Mr. Stevens expects of you. You may think you're classy now, but you'll come back to him as Thursday as trained and painted whores."


	2. A Tour with Rocco

The door to her own house opened as Brie walked up the porch, envelope beneath her under arm. In the threshold was her maid, Julia. "How did the pitch go?" The early-twenties brunette was all smiles.

Brie ignored her and stormed past. She headed straight for the kitchen, where she reached in a cabinet, got herself a glass, and from another opened door she took down a bottle of Skyy Vodka. She poured herself about half a glass, and quickly took a sip. "Fuck!" She let out, somewhat loudly.

Julia came in through the door. "Oh honey, what happened? Did he not agree?"

She was so pissed off she blurted out: "Oh he agreed."

The maid was confused, an elbow on the counter. "So...what's the problem?"

Brie realized she was close to breaking confidentiality, so she made up a lie quickly, "The pay. He won't even pay us as much as Downey Jr." That was the best thing she could come up with.

"Ahhh, God. That's sexism in Hollywood for you. A hypocritical pay gap." Julia crossed her arms.

You have no fucking idea, Brie thought. But she needed to keep up her story, "He...he said he'll talk to some people in the studios about it. Try to negotiate. Me and Gal will...we'll meet him again on Thursday." She took another sip.

Julia came over, arms outstretched, and Brie hugged her back reluctantly. The maid assured her with a chin on her shoulder: "I'm sure it won't be as much as Downey Jr., but I bet they will increase it by the week's end."

"I hope so," Brie sighed. I hate lying to her, but what choice do I have. "Hey I gotta collect my thoughts and read some, erm, paperwork about the film. Let me chill alone for a few hours?" Julia nodded with a smile, and Brie went up to her bedroom.

Upon entering, she smelled the familiar fragrance of dragon fruit incense. Alex, her boyfriend, was on tour with his band, but he had burned the stuff so much it's odor was lingering. He'll be back Friday, she thought. The day after...how will I face him?

Brie sat down on the bed and pulled out her phone out of habit. Her Twitter feed was pulled up, and she had half a mind to post something vague and pithy about her day. I probably shouldn't. She eyed the large yellow envelope, now in hand, and pulled it to where she could read the letters.

"CONFIDENTIAL" The cover read.

"Yea, no shit," Brie said to herself.

She undid the clasp and pulled out the stack of papers. There is a good bit of information here, she noted, lots of instructions. She started at the top:

Monday:

Do whatever you need to do to prepare yourself for the coming days. Sleep, get drunk, get high, exercise, have sex with someone, scream into a pillow. Do what you need to do before your regimen.

"A misogynists itinerary," she exclaimed. Then she read on:

Tuesday:

[NOTE: NO CONTACT BETWEEN MS. LARSON AND MRS. GADOT IS PERMITTED ON TUESDAY. SUCH ACTION WILL VOID CONTRACTUAL AGREEMENT.]

8 a.m. Wake

8:30 a.m. Cardio workout. Dumbbell curls. 15 lbs, 50 reps each arm. Dumbbell flys. 15 lbs, 15 reps each arms. Squats. 15 per leg. 35 minutes on treadmill.

9:30 a.m. Protein bar. Change out of gym clothes and head out to Van Nuys.

10:30 a.m -12:30 p.m. Meet Rocco and take a tour of the studio, different shoots, with a meet and greet as approved by Rocco.

12:30 p.m. Keto lunch. Two bottles of water.

12:45 p.m. - 2:45 p.m. (Cont.) Meet Rocco and take a tour of the studio, different shoots, with a meet and greet as approved by Rocco.

2:45 p.m. - 4:00 p.m. Drive back and delivery to your house.

6:00 p.m. Lentil soup dinner. 2 bottles of water.

9:00 p.m. Bed

PRIVACY NOTICE: When in the transportation vehicle and outside please wear large hat and sunglasses. Areas designated by Rocco are populated entirely by those in either his or Mr. Stevens employ. Company employees will not take photos, record video or audio, or discuss anything that happens to the media or anyone outside the company.

I guess he has this down to a science. He had better, with all the money and our careers on the line.

She flipped over to the page for Wednesday. It stated in bold at the top that both actresses would be together on this day. Some of it was the same as far as the food and exercise, and heading to Van Nuys. But she noticed the location, a beauty parlor by the name of Palm Ritz. The agenda was briefly written but clear to Brie:

10:30 a.m. - mid afternoon. Prep Shower. Prewax. Skin treatment. Full body wax. Complexion treatment. Blemish removal. Nail treatment. Anal bleaching. Makeup." All was ordered over a four to five hour period.

What the fuck, this guy is a total loser. How have I never been warned about him?Surely there have been women to come forward, in the current year. She pulled out her phone and did a quick search of Mr. Stevens on Wikipedia. The page was short, seemed poorly managed and edited, and had a photo of him dated 2009. Not much here, she thought.

Day Three, the day they were coming back to his penthouse in the evening, had few instructions. It prohibited any substance use, which Brie didn't mind, but it also referred to a "Bowel Purge" using a nutritional mixture. She gulped in fear and disgust, considering Stevens' purposes for such a step.

The other papers were about nondisclosure mostly, and there was even a statics page on earnings of top actors in superhero films. Not much encouragement, there, Dan. Or maybe Annie had slipped it in. Either way, she felt glum about the whole situation.

Leafing through the stack, she reached the final page. It only had a single paragraph, but it was printed largely and all capitalized:

BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 10:30 PM THURSDAY AND 4:00 AM FRIDAY DO NOT REFER TO MR. STEVENS BY ANY BUT THE FOLLOWING:

*Mr. Stevens

*Sir

*Master

*Boss

*Daddy

Brie's mouth was agape. These were the hours they would be in his apartment. She noticed even his first name, Dan, wasn't allowed. This guys really on a power trip, she realized to herself.

It was only mid afternoon, but today had left her exhausted. Brie finished the glass of vodka and laid back in bed, papers still lying all over the sheets. She gazed up at the ceiling for a long time, trying not to think of anything to do with the executive or Gal or sex. She tried to think of the money that had been promised, and how fun it would be to make the movie. Eventually, her mind became so fatigued and with help from the grain alcohol, she dozed off asleep.

A call woke her. Brie picked up the bright phone and saw it was Dan Stevens' office. She gulped. I don't want to answer, but I know I have to. She unlocked the phone and put it to her ear. "Hello?" She said both groggily and apprehensively.

"Hi Ms. Larson," said a chipper female voice.

Annie, oh thank God.

"Time to wake up. You've got about thirty minutes until your morning exercise."

Brie had hoped yesterday had been a bad dream, but reality overtook her. Reluctantly she sat up and yawned, "Okay'" she muttered faintly.

Annie was cordial, "Our records show that you have a small fitness area in your home, adequate enough to satisfy Mr. Stevens agreement. Is this correct?"

"What...yes?" How could they possibly know that. Then Brie remember that Alex had done a short video tour of their house about six months prior. And everything was accessible on the internet.

Annie wasn't there in the room, but Brie felt her smile through the phone call, "Excellent. Well, remember to complete the workout as specified, and to refuel afterward. That should give you enough time for a quick shower before the driver arrives."

"Okay, I'll do that." Brie hung up on her, a bit cross but mostly out of sorts. She got out of bed, walked into the hall, and used the restroom. When she came out Julia was in her room, making her bed.

"Morning, Ms. Larson. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Brie lied. She rested her arm on the stair bannister. "Hey, I've got a meeting today. I'll be gone till probably mid afternoon."

"Alright, sounds good." Julia was smoothing a crease down. "I'll just tidy up around here. Maybe make a grocery trip. I'll have dinner ready this evening."

"Can you get lintel soup? And some other things as well? Text me later and I'll give you the list. Is that okay?" Brie was cautious.

Stopping for a moment, the maid looked at her. "Didn't know you liked lintels, Brie. But all right, I'll get what you need."

Brie headed downstairs. She had pulled some moderately soiled gym cloths from the bathroom laundry hamper, and changed into them in the small weight room. She then began her workout.

It was easy enough. She wasn't extremely fit, but she did exercise fairly often. But she knew this was about muscle tone, not strength or stamina. She was used to eating and waiting a few hours, though, and her stomach churned as she ran on the treadmill. And all I get to eat till lunch is a shitty protein bar.

The bar was in a box in the kitchen. After completing the regimen she walked into the room, breathing sharply. Alex kept the bars around as a snack, so it happened, not because he was into fitness much. She munched it down, her stomach happy but still fluttery about the coming day.

The shower was hot, scalding actually. But Brie preferred it that way. The burning water rushed through her hair and down her back. She was washing herself routinely, but when it came time to clean between her legs, she paused. Oh God, she thought. How am I gonna do this? The wait till Thursday night is gonna be hell. She scrubbed her folds quickly, blinked in the downpour, and turned the water off.

A short while later she was outside, dressed in clean fitness pants, a crew cut shirt, and had on a straw summer hat and dark shades. On her feet was a pair of mahogany Sperrys. The vehicle pulled in her driveway, a jet black Chrysler, with darkened windows. The passenger window lowered mechanically. "Hi there," a thick headed, bald man, also in shades was talking to her, "You ready to go Ms. L?"

Brie hesitated. She didn't want to get in this car. She knew she'd be safe, but she didn't want this to go any further .Its got to though. She bit her lip and finally replied: "Yea I guess. Let's go."

The ride to Van Nuys was the better part of an hour. All the way there Brie pondered on what she'd see that day. She didn't watch porn. Frankly, it revolted her. She felt like she needed some more preparation, so she pulled up Google on her phone. What to search? she thought.

Feeling a bit spiteful, she typed in 'Annie porn' and pressed enter. What came up made her grimace slightly, though it was what she expected. Apparently there were multiple porn stars named Annie, as the search results demonstrated, which all showed bare-breasted Caucasian women. Some pictures had anal sex, some blow jobs. She clicked on a picture of the latter type, and it launched a website called Pornhub. The video buffered and apparently started in the middle of a scene shoot. "Oh, I want your fucking cock in my mouth." The woman on the screen said.

Brie had forgotten to turn down the volume, and the sound blasted throughout the cab. She shook with embarrassment. The bald, thick man, who's name was Bobby, turned around slightly. "Are you watching porn?"

"I uh," Brie stammered, but couldn't finish her statement as she mashed the volume button down.

He chuckled and looked back toward the road, "You think I give a shit? I run security for Rocco Siffredi. I'm around porn all day." He cleared his throat. "And, if a number like you is spending a day with him on behalf of Dan Stevens, you got bigger petunias to pick, sweetie."

Brie felt cold with apprehension. "How does Dan Stevens know Rocco?" She had to know.

The security guard was quiet for a second, then said, "Among the upper tier Hollywood management, it's a poorly kept secret than Mr. Stevens has invested significant shares in several adult film studios. I'm assuming that considering the situation you aren't going to repeat that."

"Pig," she muttered fiercely.

Bobby hawed, "Oh you have no idea, sugar. No idea. Stevens is the guy who brought Kink from the brink of bankruptcy. The studio was about to go under. Then he made a significant investment, fired all the feminazis on the production team, and made them start several new series and websites. All themed around male dominance and female submission. He brought on Rocco and his Central European smut empire. He saved the damn enterprise."

Brie's stomach began to churn. Eighty million, this has to be worth it. She needed more information though, "And who exactly is Rocco?"

Licking his gums, Bobby gave her a straight answer. "He's about as far from Gloria Steinem as Peking is from Paris. He's fucked no telling how many women. It's clear he sees them only as business and pleasure. A commodity. 'Fuckmeat' I've heard him often say. But don't worry about him at least. You belong to Mr. Stevens, and Rocco won't try anything."

Brie was offended, "Belong? Really?"

Bobby leaned forward and turned around to face her. "I know who you are, Ms. Larson. And I know if Mr. Stevens sent you here, it's not for a sightseeing tour. Well, not one you take with the family. He's got plans for you girl, and I'm betting it involves trading part of your integrity and pride for something in a movie."

Brie gulped, her eyes wide. She didn't know how to respond.

"I've got a daughter," Bobby went on. "She just graduated high school when school ended a few weeks ago. She's into nerdy stuff. She loves the comic books and the superheroes and what not. We went and saw your movie together on her eighteenth birthday. She thought you were so cool. She talks about how she wants to see you again in something else. I know you can't say, pending contracts and all, but maybe you'll be in another movie. She would like that."

Brie was mortified, but they were pulling into the destination. Bobby blinked a remote on the sun visor, and a chain link gate opened, letting them into a parking lot. The Chrysler cruised in, the gate shutting behind them like a dungeon door. "And there is Mr. Rocco," the security guard said, pulling up to a man under an awning.

Brie reluctantly stepped out of the car and Rocco walked up to her right away. He offered his hand, "Ms. Brie. Rocco Siffredi, entrepreneur."

She hesitated awkwardly, then shook it with even less assurance. My skin is crawling, she thought. "Brie, uh...Brie. I was sent by Dan?"

Rocco smiled. "I know. Come inside, it's hot. You can take that sweltering hat off." They entered the glass door, Bobby waving farewell and getting back into the car. Oh God, thought Brie.

Inside was a long, white hall. Almost immediately a woman came out of an open doorway. She was dressed, well, like a harlot. Brie thought, guilty of her predisposition. She was wearing heels laced up to her knees, a corset with frills, and her breasts were exposed. Her lipstick was a deep red. "Rex hasn't shown for the glory hole." She casually said, "I got another scene in thirty and can't wait around. She looked at Brie and softly muttered, "Hi,"

Brie didn't know what to do besides give a pathetic wave. Rocco spoke up, "Fine. Now, do you know if young Laura is shooting today? She's scheduled, but Dan has fucked up some stuff with the sudden guest visit.

The woman nodded. "Yea, she's due for her scene in about twenty I think? If I've got the current time right."

Rocco seemed pleased. "Very good. Now, Ms. Brie," he turned the actress, "Dan had some certain...ideas in mind that he wanted you to learn. But he hasn't worked in the ditches of this industry like I have. I start you off with something, eh, gentle." He must have timed it perfectly, because the scene was a few rooms down.

Brie was nervous, and didn't walk too quickly as he led her. Oh God, here we go.

Rocco began to explain the day. "So, this building was specifically designed with many sets having one way mirrors. Dan saw to it in the construction. You can look and watch the shoot without the actors ever seeing you. However,"

Brie didn't like this one bit, "What? Tell me, Rocco."

Rocco looked pleased to tell her. "However, Dan stipulated a meet and greet, which means sometime to day, you have to go in there. No, not for that. He wants you to experience the scene visually. He wants you to hear it up close smell it. Talk to the performers a little. The thing is, I am the one to sign off on the approval."

"Approval?" What the hell was he saying.

"Meaning I get to decide when you've experienced a scene fully. That you've got the proper education about how all this works. It's so funny, I, Rocco, the biggest sleaze ever, get to be in charge of pretty celebrity for a day." He clapped his hands once. "Because if you refuse to go in at all, Mr. Stevens claims the deal is void."

"This is, God, this is so fucked." She said to him and herself.

Ha laughed cheesily at that, "Oh you're about to see fucked, ." They had arrived at a window. "Get up close," said Rocco.

Brie braced herself, and looked inside. She instantly saw nudity, recognized it in here head. There was a man and a woman on a bed, the man with a camera strapped around his head. He was going down on the actress, who had her fingers through his short hair. "Mmm baby, that's right." She moaned.

Well, Brie admitted, this isn't horrible. Kinda cool, to see a man film himself satisfy a woman. Maybe not all porn is bad.

Rocco must have figured her thoughts. "Like I said, gentle stuff. Not what Mr. Stevens has in mind exactly. He's told me he only eats his wife out and no other woman."

"Of course, how could he not be so loyal to the mother of his children?" She replied nastily. But she watched the scene. Eventually the man inside stopped. He pulled the woman up to his own groin and slowly began to penetrate her. They both sighed, and the pace increased. The man kissed the woman heavily, and after about five minutes he pulled out and ejaculated on her belly.

It's not like Alex and I haven't done the same, Brie reminisced on making love to her boyfriend the night before his tour started. I'm sorry Alex. I'm sorry I'm here and not with you.

Mr. Siffredi was talking: "Alright, you saw the lovey-dovey sexy time. Now, I want you to see something different. Come."

They continued further down the hall and turned up a flight of stairs. Part of the way Brie heard some sort of wretched amory faintly through the walls and tried not to imagine what it was. At last Rocco brought her to another window. "Ah, here we are. Young Laura is on the clock!"

Brie peered in, and what she saw made her grimace.

Inside was a blonde girl, dressed like a teenager, with pigtails, high socks, and Chuck Taylor's. Except that was all she was wearing. A man stood over her knelt body, and holding the pigtails, was penetrating her mouth messily.

"Oh my God, your throat is amazing." The man grunted out. The girl was laughing while he stuck it in. Spittle dripped down her lips and onto her red knees.

Brie turned away, squeamish. "I can't do this. No fucking way."

"Oh Ms. Brie," Rocco said, crossing it arms. "If you can't get through a blow job scene at the start, how are you gonna finish the day, especially the meet and greet?"

He's right, she thought. She steeled herself, and faced the glass once more.

The man fucked the girls face with a final thrust, then pulled her up. "Get on that fucking couch." He barked out. The petite girl did so, and the male actor get behind her. "Take it easy, baby girl. Your ass..." He trailed off, then inserted his penis into her butt.

"Ahhh," the actress called out, and the cameraman, who'd been a few feet away, moved in really close, about half a foot away from her face.

Brie watched the spectacle unfold. The man pounded and pounded her, and the female screamed harshly. "Fuck, fuck yea. Oh my God, fuck my ass." It went on and on, the man pressing his weight with his hand down onto her head. After what seemed an eternity he finished, and Brie looked away again when he pulled out to ejaculate on the girl's buttocks.

Brie felt traumatized. She felt embarrassed. She felt ashamed that her and the actress shared a gender. But I'm gonna pull through this. "Okay, now what?" She was expecting to move on.

Rocco had a wicked grin. "Give me one minute. You might knock your encounter off right here. Now stay put, don't move." Rocco turned and entered the nearby room, onto the set.

The male actor spied him, "Hey Rocco, just finishing up."

The producer snapped at him, "Leave, out the back of the set. Now."

"Alright…" The man left out another door.

"If you are still filming switch off the record." The pornographer had been panning up and down the woman's soiled body, but then pressed a button and lowered the camera.

Rocco looked at the actress on the couch. "What is your name?"

"Laura," she said. She was moving sideways to face him.

Brie watched with suspense. Something was up here. Rocco continued, "And why do you do..this? Have sex on camera?"

Laura giggled. "Because I like to get fucked, what do you think Rocco? And you pay me for it."

Rocco was giddy, "How long ago did you start doing this?"

"About, hmm, two weeks after I turned eighteen."

Rocco licked his lips, finally asking, "And what does daddy think?"

Laura put a finger to her lips, "Shhh, Daddy doesn't know. He doesn't know his little girl and him have the same boss, just different job titles."

Brie pondered a moment. The realization was building. Right as she reached the conclusion, Rocco asked, "Who's your favorite superhero?"

"Uhh, Captain Marvel, duh! She's really badass." The young woman admitted.

Brie almost fainted. This was twisted beyond all reckoning. Through a daze of disgust, she saw Rocco side glance toward the window, knowing she was watching. "Come in and meet her," his mouth didn't move but his eyes spoke.

Brie didn't know what else to do but storm off down the hall where they had come from. Tears welled in her eyes. I'm out, she told herself, no more for me.

She didn't know where she was going, and got turned around. She backtracked, and took a left through an empty room. Surely there is an exit to this woman dungeon.

She made her way her way into an office with an open door on the other side. Through it she heard not wailing and whimpering, but talking. She stopped for a moment, then cautiously peeked around the corner.

Inside was a cameraman pointing a camera at a couple of actors. The male actor was buff, tattooed arms and a full if scruffy beard. In his lap sat a woman, sweaty, black of hair and with heavy eye shadow. Both were completely naked, and behind them was a wooden X, six feet tall with shackles. The woman was smiling and talking softly.

"It was intense. But I dig it, hahaha. I like the submission and the uh, ya know, humiliation."

The male actor nuzzled her and she him back. He spoke, "Yeah, I mean this is not everyone's work, but it's not the worst job in the world. But I couldn't do this if she didn't let me. She's got control of her own sexuality."

They talked more, on and off for a while, the cameraman questioning them. Apparently, the scene they filmed involved nipple clamps and candle wax. There was a drip hardened on the female's thick arm. Finally, she heard the cameraman ask her, "Did you cum?"

The woman giggled a little, "Oh yeah, like four times. It was just, the restraints. Feeling powerless. I live for it."

Can't be, Brie thought. There's no way a woman would ever enjoy this kind of work. Just then she heard someone behind her, and she turned her head to see Rocco.

"There you are Ms. Brie. I was beginning to worry." The others in the set room heard him, and turned to the doorway.

"Hello?" The director said, irritated at his set being interrupted.

Rocco flew past Brie, "It's just me. And a guest from Mr. Stevens." He motioned Brie to enter. She did so hesitantly, and the actors and director seemed to not recognize her.

"Jesus, Rocco," the director pulled the camera off his shoulder. "I get it you're my boss, but I got a lot of shit to shoot. I can't spend time editing this out. Dammit!"

Brie suddenly spoke up. "So, shoot it again."

Everyone turned to her. "What the fuck?" said the male actor.

"The whole scene?" said the director, angry.

Rocco seemed impressed at Brie's attitude change. He compromised. "No, don't shoot it. Just do it. No camera."

Brie crossed her arms, finding a voice, "Because I want to see what a woman could find so pleasurable about all this filth." She was so angry and on edge she didn't even care anymore. "And I'll make sure Mr. Stevens pays you two triple."

"Whaaat, that's more than I make for shooting it," the director waggled his camera.

Rocco told the director to shut up and leave, and the latter did so, muttering. He looked at the actors. "Are you...willing to do that. I'll guarantee the money. Dan cares a lot about this guest visit."

The male shrugged. "Fine, but I'm out tomorrow. No point in doing a cumshot scene with barely any cum." Rocco agreed, and the actor walked off, "Give me fifteen minutes, I gotta take something to get hard again this quick."

"A shrewd woman." The female performer said to Brie. The Hollywood star walked over to the adult film star and tapped her foot.

"Are you faking it? You have to be! There's no way candle wax can feel good."

The woman smiled, and crossed her arms over her dangling bosom, "Before I came to Van Nuys, I slept with a lot of men. Travelled on the road with some bikers. We would move around country throughout the year, and every time we stopped for the night, I'd find a guy at the bar to shack up with. Handsome or ugly, rich or poor, none of them knew how the fuck me right."

Brie was intrigued, so the woman continued: "Then, while in Los Angeles on one tour, a guy I hooked up with did know. He knew how to treat me like I wanted. Rough and tumble. He told me he did porn. I went to some of his shoots and watched him fuck other women. He was impressive, needless to say. We eventually split, but I had decided on my life's work at that point."

"Hmm," Brie grunted, unconvinced. She sat down on a chair Rocco had pulled in from the other room. And she waited for the live show to begin.

It started normally enough. Both actors were nude, and the woman kneeled down and began to suck the newly erect penis. Her body was thick, though not overweight. She seemed an expert at sucking cock.

After a few minutes, the male actor took her by the hand and led her to the cross. He shackled both her legs and arms, splaying her body in an X. She is wet, Brie noted, as the woman's crotch was now visible.

"You feel good up there?" The male asked the female.

"Yeah," she sighed in ardor. He then sucked on her nipples, bit them even, causing her to mouth the word "Fuck!"

He then reached on a nearby stool and, taking the clamps, applied them to her teats. "Oh my God," she whimpered with smile.

If shes acting, she's damn good at it. Better than some sex scenes in Hollywood.

The man began to finger her vagina, and she became slippery wet. He stroked his own genitals and called her a bitch, a whore.

Then reaching over to the stool, he took the lit candle. He swirled the wax around in it a bit, teasing his fellow performer. Then, slowly, he titled it forward, and let a little drop on her breast. She called out for God as it slithered down the curve and over her areola.

For some reason, Brie's mind was racing differently than with the previous scene. She was more fascinated than disgusted. She leaned forward in the chair again, to get a slightly closer view.

The wax was applied, again and again, each time illicitng a response from the female. One drip rolled through her cleavage, and splitting softly on her toe. Brie looked at it, just stared for a long time. The woman's foot was bigger than hers, sure but still feminine. Has to be for this job. The top sported a flower tattoo.

Rocco must have noticed something about her gaze. He stood beside her, arms crossed again, and asked, "Want to get closer? It will qualify as your meet and greet."

Brie slowly stood up from the chair, and even more slowly moved toward the sex scene. The man was biting the female's neck now. He turned upon seeing her approach. "Just want to watch? Or should you take off your cloths?"

Rocco shouted furiously, "Don't be stupid, this is Mr. Stevens' girl. She just needs a close up."

The actor shrugged it off, "Okay, I'll give her one."

He took the restraints off the woman, all four, and as she eased down he grabbed her large ass cheek. "A little change in script." He murmured. Turning the woman back toward the cross, he shackled her arms again, so her ass stuck forward toward Brie.

The adult film actress was breathy, "Oh, I'm liking this," She got her ass smacked loudly.

The man looked straight into Brie's eyes. "Do you trust me? I guess you'll have to if you want your qualification."

Brie gulped and nodded. The actor pointed, "Go behind the cross, get under her. And when I say move, you move."

Jesus, this is getting out of control, Brie was frightened but extremely interested. Besides, she wanted her gold star, so to speak.

So, moving around the bondage device, Brie got down on the floor and worked her way under it. She moved gingerly, careful not to touch the woman, or the man either for that matter. Finally she was right under the woman's eagle spread.

"Okay," she exhaled.

The woman above her was already moist enough from the breast abuse, and she was penetrated easily. Brie watched, almost numb but perceptive, the meeting of bodies above her. She noticed something else too: the woman's pretty feet were on either side of her head. This close, Brie saw the veins pump within them, and inspected the chipped indigo nail polish on the toes.

Something hit her face. It was a drop of sweat, or maybe another fluid from the woman. Brie felt gross, but she stomached it and didn't move.

Back and forth the copulation went, the woman moaning "Oh God, fuck me daddy!" and gasping loudly. The dripping increased, and Brie moved her head so far to the side her hair touched the woman's ankle. She smelled the perspiration on the woman's leg. It isn't a terrible sensation, she thought without realizing.

The mass of flesh meeting flesh mesmerized her. She almost felt, no it can't be, I don't feel euphoric. Then suddenly she heard the actor say something, "Move."

Is he talking to me or her?

Then louder: "Move!" And she did just in time. A large gush a vaginal fluid, likely mixed with precum, spilled downward. Brie sat up sharply and veered left, rolling on her butt. There was splatter where her head had been.

"Enough for me," she said, a little sick. She managed to get up, and walked over to Rocco. On the way she kept glancing back, watching the actor take his turn to finish. The floor was more messy by the time she spoke to the producer. "Well?"

Rocco nodded deeply, "Very good. That will do." He checked his watch. "Time for lunch."

Lunch was decent, considering the seedy setting. She was still hungry after the light breakfast, but the ups and downs of the morning had lessened her appetite. She munched on some kale.

Rocco sat with her, drinking a ginger beer and yammering on about adult film expansion in Van Nuys. He obviously knew she needed a break, and tried to leave out explicit details. When one slipped he apologized.

He took a sip of his beverage. "You ever go to Eastern Europe? Plenty of sweet things there willing to do this work. Backwash countryside, no economic opportunity. They'd rather suck dick on camera than starve. Sorry."

Brie swallowed a bite of food. She was going to try and be pragmatic. "How many actors do you employ, you and Dan?"

Rocco's hand drummed a brief diddy on the table top. "Hmm, I'd say about a thousand. Give or take a few dozen."

"How many are women?" She gave him an annoyed look and took a gulp from a water bottle.

He figured in his head. "Ahh, about seventy percent, think. Why, surprise you? The female body is so much more exquisite than the man's. Sure, sure we are stronger and better at running a society, but we will never be divine like women. We are men made of mud, with a boost realm of hooch. All we have is resolve. And the best we can hope for is this:" he held his fingers in a circle, representing a vagina.

Brie licked the inside of her cheek, the asked him angrily, "Well, if women are so divine, why do you use them like you do then?"

He shook his hands around, " No, no Ms. Brie. I do not use women anymore than the market uses me. I'm a facilitator, a purveyor of services. I cut my losses and enjoy my profits. Mr. Stevens, he makes movies for the whole world, for families from China to the Cape of Good Hope to Fargo up in Dakota. I myself, I provide a service to those of consenting age, of which to have a little enjoyment in their lives."

"Yea, you are both revolting sexist men." Brie levelled.

Rocco seemed to capitulate. He flung his hands up again, "Okay, alright. You win. Miss big shot Hollywood. I am no better than a pimp. But what does that make Daniel? What does that make you? I'm sure he already told you."

Brie gave up, and grumpily ate her food in silence.

The rest of the afternoon flew by. Every remaining scene they watched through glass windows. Brie saw lots of things new to her: lesbian cheerleaders, double anal sex, milf productions. She saw medical roleplays and white women having sex with black men. By the time the sun was going down, her mind was overestimulated, worn out.

So much sweat. And spit. And sperm.

Rocco walked her to the pickup car. "I guess I won't be seeing you for a while, Ms. Brie. I have lots of work to do and so do you."

Brie looked at him smugly, "I really hope I don't Rocco. Really."

Instead of shaking her hand, he patted her on the back. "You will do great things, I'm sure. Don't forget your learning for today."

Brie ignored that, and got in the car. She remembered suddenly about the girl in the first scene, and blurted out, "Bobby!"

A man, black and definitely not Bobby, turned around. "I'm not Bobby, he only works mornings. You ready or not?"

She felt dejected. "Yea, get me out of this cesspit."

The car pulled through the gate, out of the compound, and drove toward Beverly Hills, jet black against the tangerine California sunset.


End file.
